"Hold on!" said Dr. Frost. "Well, I suppose there is no harm done. Tell him how he was hurt, Aleck."
"How did you suppose you received your hurt?" asked the adjutant.
"I was told by Dr. Frost that somebody knocked me down," said I, with nervous curiosity.
"Yes, that's so; somebody did knock you down," said the doctor.
"You were struck senseless by a bursting shell thrown by the enemy's cannon," said the adjutant, "and yet you refuse to admit that you are a soldier!"
To say that I was speechless would be weak. I stared back at the two men.
"You have on the uniform; you are armed; you are in the ranks; you are under fire from the enemy's batteries, where death may come, and does come; you are wounded; you are brought to your hospital for treatment. And yet you doubt that you are a soldier! You must be merely dreaming that you doubt!"
While speaking Adjutant Haskell had risen, a sign that he was getting angry, I feared; but no, he was going to leave. "Jones, good-by," he said; "hold on to that strong will of yours, but don't let it fall into obstinacy."
The doctor came nearer. "You are stronger than you thought," said he.
"Yes, I am. I was surprised."